The Starting of the Story of Allison
by beatlesareforlife
Summary: Okay, so girl loves Beatles, girl goes to sleep in 2010, girl wakes up, girl meets Beatles,in 1964. My first fanfic ever, so please be gentle. And Im terrible at summaries. I hope you enjoy! Peace and love.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Beatles. only in my mind**

Allison walked from the antique store with her newest purchase in hand. She was almost skipping with glee, she found _Abbey Road. _Her favorite album from her favorite band, the Beatles. She loved everything about them.

Allison was 23, and she hated the modern world. The music was crap, people were rude, chivalry was dead and she just felt out of place in this shit-heap called the modern world. What she wanted was to be in the 60's, to see the Beatles live and live through her favorite time. It would never happen, but hey, a girl can dream right?

She looked up from her record to see her bus. Leaving. Without her. _'Shit,' _she thought. She pulled out her iTouch and started listening to _Abbey Road_. Maybe she didn't totally hate the modern world. It let her hold all of her favorite albums in her pocket.

By the time she got home, she was exhausted. She set the record on the turntable and wished she could have lived in the sixties. The last thing she heard was the weird Spanish/Portuguese/Italian part in 'Sun King.' She had an odd dream that somehow involved a walrus and a clock that was moving backwards…

-:-:-:-

"'Lo? Love? Are you okay?" Some voice kept asking. It sounded so familiar, but no way it could be… could it?

WAIT! Where was she? She opened her eyes to see him! Paul McCartney kneeling down next to her in an alley way. "Where am I?"

"Liverpool."

"What year is it?"

"1964." She could feel her face pale and he looked concerned.

"What?" She asked. "But I fell asleep in 2010, in my apartment."

He looked at her like she was crazy now. "How do I know you're not lying?"

She scrambled, "Um…"

Then she felt it, in her pocket. "Here!" She pulled out her itouch. This had to prove she was from the future.

"What's that?"

"It's from my time. Okay, think of a song you haven't released yet, and you haven't told anyone about."

"Okay."

"Now hum in for me."

He looked skeptical then started to hum something. The tune was recognizable in an instant.

Before he finished the first few measures, she had it playing out of the speakers in her itouch. "Yesterday." She stated. "This is the finished version. It will become the most covered song in history."

He stared at her in awe. "I believe you."

"Thank you. How did I get here?"

Paul thought for a second. "I don't know. I found you lying on the ground here. I was on my way home from the studio. I thought I'd walk. You were just lying there, so I thought I should try to wake you up, and apparently you're from the future. I'm Paul"

She chuckled. "I know. I'm Allison "

He thought for a second. "You're coming with me."

"What? Where"

"To my flat. You have nowhere else to go, correct?"

She nodded her head.

"Okay, to my flat we go."

He helped her up, and they began the walk to his flat, in the balmy summer night.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own the Beatles.**

Paul's POV:

Who is this bird? She knows more about me than I know about myself. She's cute though.

"You people from the future dress odd, you know." I smiled, trying to make the silence as we walked no longer a silence.

She laughed quietly. "You people from the sixties dress odd."

She looked off for a second. She had a thoughtful expression. She suddenly stopped and grabbed my arm.

"Is this a dream?" She asked, looking thoughtful and frightened.

I said, "No, I don't believe so."

She took a shaky breath, let go of my arm and kept walking. I took the next silence as a chance to look her over. She had long, dark, curly hair that stopped around her shoulder blades. Her dark hazel eyes were behind thick black frames that somehow looked good on her. They weren't like glasses from now though. They were rectangular. Her pale skin was almost perfect, with little freckles on her nose. Her cheeks regained their color, and were a soft rose color. Her lips were in a permanent pout due to her large bottom lip. She was short, about 5' 4'' _(A/N: I know he's English and he's think in terms of meters, but I'm not English so I don't know the proper measurement, sorry_._)_ Her clothes, as I had commented earlier, were odd. Her jeans were tight all the way down her legs, which I can't complain about. Her tight shirt clung to her soft curves and was all black except for a triangle-thingy with a white thing going in one end and a rainbow coming out the other end. She also talked with an American accent. She must have noticed me looking at her. I tried to make it less awkward.

"What does that thing on your shirt mean?"

She looked down and chuckled, "That's the prism. It represents Pink Floyd."

She looked at me liked she thought I was supposed to know who that was. She must have seen the confused expression I felt crawl over my face.

"Shit, sorry, they're a band. Well, they're going to be a band… they were a band…. I don't know, time travel confuses me…."

I laughed, "What's their music like?"

She searched for a word, and then chuckled as she said "Um… Trippy perfection."

She pulled out the boxy thing that played one of my songs earlier. "Here. This is 'Comfortably Numb.' It's one of their best songs. I'm showing you this song in the hopes that you will not let it affect your music. I wouldn't want to screw with perfection." She waited. I took the hint and nodded.

She started to play the music. It was weird. And it was also beautiful. The guitar was wonderful. By the end of the song, we reached the door to my apartment.

I pulled out my keys and we stepped inside. She looked around and said "This is a nice place."

I thanked her and started to make tea.

"Could I play your piano?"

"Yes, of course."

She thanked me and sat down at the piano. She started to play something very familiar but I couldn't put a name to it. It was very pretty though. She obviously had been playing for a long time. I walked out to watch her play. I had to chuckle at the site of her tiny hands moving so quickly over the keyboard to hit all of the notes, and that she did.

She heard me and turned around. "What?" She asked with a smile.

"You have tiny hands."

She looked down at them. She started laughing. "Yea, my friends in high school called me Madame Tiny Hands. My friends were odd. Almost all of us loved you guys too. You know, the Beatles."

"We're still popular?"

"Hell yea. You guys are the most famous men. Everyone knows you. Almost everyone loves the Beatles, and your solo careers."

"Are we still touring in the future?"

She looked like she didn't know how to answer. "No." She stated simply. She looked upset.

"Why not?"

She looked even more upset. Almost like she was going to cry. "Reasons."

I would have asked, but I heard the teapot.

I returned with two teacups and she took hers and sipped.

"Is it because we broke up we're not touring?"

She nodded her head. There was more. I knew there was.

"One of us is dead. Is that it?"

She nodded. She was almost crying.

"Which one of us?"

"Paul, I don't think I should tell you."

Then it hit me, it must be me. "Is it me?"

"No. You're still alive and touring. Can we leave it at that for now? Please?"

I sighed and nodded.

She wiped her eyes before the tears could fall. We sat in silence for a few moments.

"So tell me about yourself, Allie. May I call you Allie?"

She seemed to cheer up a bit. "Yes you can. Well, I'm from a small town in New York, my mom and dad died when I was young, and I was an only child. So I wasn't very attached to America, and that's why I moved to England. I had friends, but I was never terribly close to many people. Um…. I've had a real boyfriend. Uh… I like chocolate. Not much else to say." She chuckled.

"How come you've never had a real boyfriend?"

She smiled "I don't know, I just don't like settling down that much. And not many guys are terribly interested."

"Why would that be?" I asked, actually puzzled.

"I don't know, probably because I'm just another averagely pretty girl."

"That's not true. You're much more than average."

'_Shit, why did I say that? Did she just blush?'_

She shyly looked down and took a sip of her tea. She seemed to want to change the subject.

'_Why did I have to go and make it awkward?'_

"So, um… I… How did I get here?"

"I have no idea. But you can stay with me and I'll make sure everything turns out fine for you. I'll introduce you to the guys tomorrow."

"Could I borrow a shirt to sleep in tonight?"

"Yes. Once we finish our tea Ill get you set up."

"Thank you, you're very kind."

"It's nothing, love. I don't need a reason to help a very pretty girl."

"_Aha! She did blush!"_

"Thank you." She smiled shyly and finished her tea. She stood up to take my empty cup with hers to the kitchen.

I handed her my cup and thanked her.

"Is it okay if I just set these in the sink?"

"That's fine, love."

We walked up the stairs to the hallway and I showed her to her room. "This is yours."

"Okay."

She sat there looking at me like she expected something. I was at a loss. She must have seen.

"Shirt?"

"Oh! Yea, wait here."

I walked out, brought her some random shirt I found and handed it to her.

"Thanks."

"Well, I guess I'll just go to bed then. Thank you for everything."

She suddenly grabbed me and hugged me, I was a little confused at first, then I hugged back. When we stopped hugging she smiled to me.

"Goodnight, Paul. Sleep well."

I smiled. "Goodnight, Allie."

I think I like this bird.

_**(A/N) Okay, sorry it's so long, but yea, welcome to the exposition! So, I hope you like it and please please review. I'm not going for total accuracy with every little detail, but I'm trying to keep some sort of accurate timeline. Okay, again, thank you so much for reading and please review. Peace and Love**_


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own the Beatles**

**Third Person POV**

Allison woke up confused.

'_Whose room is this?' _She thought to herself. _'Oh yea, Paul McCartney's.'_

She walked into the kitchen in Paul's shirt and thought for minute about how she got here, and why Paul said she was prettier than average. She started to make breakfast while pondering what Paul had said and why he would say it. She really never did think of herself as more than average. She thought about how she never realized how handsome Paul really is.

Paul woke up confused. _'Where did Allison come from? Why does she think she is only average when she is clearly stunning…. And why does my apartment smell like breakfast?'_

He walked into the kitchen to see Allison making breakfast in the kitchen, in his shirt and her underwear. He didn't know why, but he felt a bit of warmth in his cheeks.

"Made you breakfast. Sorry I'm in my underwear. I didn't have any pants to wear except for my skinny jeans, and they're not very easy to get into or comfortable." She said the last part with a sheepish grin and a tint of pink in her cheeks.

Paul nodded and thanked her for making breakfast, and told her to wait in the kitchen for a moment. He returned a minute later with a pair of comfortable looking pants. "Thought you might like these." He said with a half smile. She thanked him, put on his pants and handed him his plate.

He sat down and started to eat and she sat down near him and did the same.

"We don't have to be to John's house until about 2:30 today. I was thinking we'd get you some clothes."

"I don't have any money." She answered simply, looking down at her food.

"No, you don't, but I have a lot."

"Really, Paul, I don't want to take your money."

"You're not taking my money. I'm willingly helping you out."

"Fine. But nothing too girly. I don't like girly things."

He chuckled and finished his breakfast. She took their plates and washed them while he went to take a shower.

Once she had showered and gotten back in her too modern clothes, they set out to shop. Anything she even looked at, he bought her. She tried to protest, saying it was all too much, but he kept ignoring her arguments, and bought anything she seemed to want.

"Paul?"

"Yes?"

"Could I just have some money for this next part of the shopping? I'd rather do this part alone"

"Why can't I go with you?"

Her cheeks turned a bit pink. "I kinda need to buy, um uh, underwear."

"Oh." He said, his cheeks now just as pink as hers.

"I won't be long. Could you wait here for me?"

"Sure." He said as he handed her some money.

Twenty minutes later she returned with a bag full of underthings to find Paul eating a soft cinnamon sugar pretzel.

"I saved you some." He said, holding half the pretzel out.

She chuckled and took half the pretzel and they sat down on a bench.

"Thank you for everything, Paul."

"It's nothing."

She smiled to him and he winked back, with that famous McCartney grin.

"Well, it's about noon, so we should head to my apartment and get you into some era-appropriate clothes."

She smiled and they started to walk to his apartment.

Once they arrived, she went to change into her new clothes and he made some tea.

She walked out in a blue sheath dress with pockets and sandals. He couldn't help but look her up and down. She couldn't help but notice him do so.

With a slight blush, she asked "What am I going to tell the others?"

He looked slightly confused. "About?"

"Where I come from, how I got here, why, I'm arriving with you at John's house…"

He thought for a second, and turned to her and said, "Well, the truth I suppose."

"They won't believe us."

"Show them the music boxy thing. That's how you got me to believe you."

While Paul was cleaning out the 2 teacups, she sat in the living room and took a glance at his bookcase, and saw something she didn't expect. She picked the book up and brought it to the kitchen where Paul was drying the cups.

"Pride and Prejudice?"

"Yea," He smiled, "It's one of my favorites."

"Paul McCartney, the hopeless romantic?" She giggled

"Isn't everyone deep down?" He said with a smile, but she knew he was serious.

"I guess." She said with a small blush. _'Shit, why do I blush at everything he does?'_

-:-:-:-

Paul stepped out of the car and helped Allison out.

She smiled nervously and said "Well, here we go."

John looked through the window and nudged George who was sitting next to him strumming a guitar.

"Who's Paulie's bird?"

George turned to look out the window. "I don't know."

"Paulie's got a bird?" Ringo asked from the next room.

"Yea, real pretty too," answered George.

The door opened and in walked Paul and Allison.

"Hello." Paul said, surveying the room and gauging the reactions.

Ringo looked interested.

George smiled to Allison.

John looked skeptical. He was the first to speak.

"Who's this?"

Allison said "I'm Allison."

"Hullo." George said, removing his guitar from his lap.

The room was quiet for a second until Paul said "She's from the future."

George and Ringo said in unison "What?"

Paul and Allison took turns explaining the story as they knew it, and answering questions as best as they could.

John still looked skeptical, and seeing this, Paul turned her and said "Allie, show him the music boxy thing."

She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out her itouch.

She did the same thing to John that she did to Paul to prove she was from the future. He finally believed her, but then was too enamored by the itouch to talk for 5 minutes.

George asked her "May I call you Allie?" He accented the 'you' by poking her nose.

She laughed and said "Yes you may. May I call you Georgie?" She accented the second 'you' just as he did.

He laughed and nodded his head.

The five sat and talked, about Allison, about the Beatles, and a little about the future. She carefully hid anything that could change the future.

Allison discovered that John was nice, but definitely the hardest to get along with. He was slightly rude, yet very sweet. He was also extremely witty. She could see that he was easily the smartest person she'd ever met. He was an enigma.

George really was the quiet Beatle, but easily one of the nicest people she'd ever met.

Ringo was not as quiet as George, but didn't say a lot. He was blessed with the same wit that John had.

John liked her. He thought she was pretty gear and very smart. He couldn't help but tease her though. Its just what he does.

George thought she was incredibly smart, funny and beautiful. The whole package.

Ringo was interested by her. He thought she was just fascinating.

Eventually the boys had pick up their instruments and began to practice. They ran through a couple numbers and it began to get late.

By midnight Paul stood and set down his famous Hofner bass. He offered Allison his hand to help her up and she accepted. She turned to say goodbye to the other three, but was surprised when they all, even John, hugged her goodnight.

They all bid each other adieu and agreed to meet the next day at Paul's flat this time.

During their walk, Allison turned to Paul and said, "You know, that was easier than I thought it would be."

"What?" He said, a slight smile on his lips.

"Meeting the other three Beatles. It's hard enough being found by one, but then meeting the other three is pretty nerve racking. They seemed to not hate me though." She said smiling.

"They liked you." He assured her.

"Really?" She asked, eyes sparkling.

"Yea. You would have known if they didn't."

"Sweet. The Beatles like me. I think I know the thing I'll miss the most about the future."

"What?"

"Wearing pants. I like jeans. I don't like how I look in dresses."

"You look lovely." He noticed the goose bumps on her arm and took his coat off, draping it on her small frame.

"You didn't have to." She said with a blush and shy smile. _'I guess chivalry is alive and well in the 60's.'_

"But I wanted to." The rest of the walk was in silence.

Paul's POV

'_Did I just make everything awkward? Damn. And why does she blush so often? Does she like me? No, she can't. She's probably just shy.'_

We arrived at my apartment and she handed me my coat.

"Thank you again, Paul."

"It's nothing, really." I smiled.

"I should probably be off to bed. See you in the morning." She said.

She hugged me. As she began to pull away, I felt the jacket fall and hit the ground.

We both reached to grab it, and our hand touched, momentarily. We both drew our hands back, but I tried to hide it by picking up the coat. Our eyes met quickly before her eyes quickly looked down at the floor as she quietly but calmly said "Goodnight."

Her face was her normal pink color, but I could feel that mine was next to crimson. Why was my face red?

I quickly muttered "Goodnight, love" and fidgeted for a second then turned to my room. I got into bed and could not fall asleep very quickly, my head to loud with thoughts that could not be lulled. Eventually I dozed off.

Yup, I really like this bird.

**(A/N.) So yea. I like writing from Paul's point of view. I'm sure this isn't how the real Beatles would have acted, but I never knew them, so I guess I can just go by inferences. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it! Peace and love.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own the Beatles. I only wish I did…**

Paul's POV:

I sat sipping tea and strumming my guitar in the living room, mulling over the events of late. Allison seemed to get along well with everyone yesterday. Everyone seemed to like her too. I don't know how she got here, but for some reason, I'm very glad she is here.

I glanced toward the stairs and saw her feet walking down. I shifted the guitar on my lap and looked away very quickly, pretending to be enveloped in what I was playing on my guitar. What the hell was I even playing anyway?

She was in one of the shirts and pairs of pants I lent her. She was also wearing her glasses again. She didn't wear them yesterday when we went shopping and saw the guys. She said they looked too modern. She sat down in a chair near me and tiredly smiled to me and said good morning.

"Morning, love." I replied, returning her smile. I had to think of some sort of conversation. "Do you know what day it is?"

She thought for a second and replied "I have no idea. What's the month?"

"June."

"Really? What's the date?"

"The second"

"That means seven days until my birthday and sixteen until yours, correct?"

"Yea, wait! Your birthday's in a week?" I asked, excited.

"Yea, I guess. Had no clue what the date was." She laughed.

She glanced to the clock. It was about 11, and the others would be here around noon.

"So, about my birthday," I started, "There's going to be this huge party thing. Kind of like a ball. Would you like to go?"

"I don't know, Paul." She said, looking tentative.

"Why not?" _'Why do I sound so confused?'_

"I can't dance. Nor do I have anything to wear." She looked at the ground, a sad smile on her lips.

"I have more money than I'll ever need. We can get you a dress." _'Am I really this determined to get her to go to a dance?'_

"But then I'll have this beautiful dress and look like a dumbass because I can't dance." She said, trying to look defiant, but barely holding back laughter.

"Don't talk like that. We'll teach you how to dance, you won't look like a dumbass, and you'll have a fun time." I'm pretty sure I convinced her because she started laughing and nodded her head.

"Alright, I'll go, but if I look stupid, I'm blaming it on you, James Paul McCartney." She said, wagging a motherly finger.

"Alright, I take all responsibility for how well you'll dance." I smiled, holding my right hand up, as if taking a vow.

She laughed and went to get a cup of tea for herself. She came back in and sat back down, this time at the piano. She started playing the same thing she played the night we met.

"What is it you're playing?" I asked.

"Gnossiennes No. 1. One of my favorites."

"It's pretty." She smiled to me and looked back down at the piano.

I sat and listened to her play, and she didn't seem to mind.

After about 3 minutes and without stopping from playing, she asked as if she didn't want anyone to hear, "What am I going to do?"

"What do you mean, love?"

"If I never return to my time. What if I change the future?" She said as quietly before, "What if I screw everything up? What about-"

She stopped, taking a shaky breath. Like she couldn't say anything more. She just kept playing, but looked on the verge of tears.

"What about what?"

"Everything I can't tell you about the future. I could change history by a slip of the tongue. "

"You can't change what hasn't happened." I said, trying to be truthful.

She looked up from the piano, a sorrowful look in her eyes. "But I'll always know how everything originally happened."

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing either of us can really do. And it can't have originally happened one way, if it hasn't happened. " I said, in the gentlest voice possible.

She sighed, nodded and continued to play. She looked out the window, lost in thought, then turned to me.

"I'm sorry," she began, "It's just that there's a lot that I wish I could tell you, but I know I can't, and I'm afraid that something will slip, or I'll screw up history, or…"

She had stopped playing halfway through her apology of sorts to reach up and wipe away a tear that ran down her pink cheek. I walked over and sat down next to her. She took a deep breath and looked at me, and gave a half-smile.

She tried again. "I'm sorry, it's just kind of a lot. You know, spontaneous time travel, meeting your favorite band, knowing too much, it's just a lot." She smiled a sad smile.

"I know," I said. "It will be alright. I promise." I gave her a gentle hug.

She quietly said "Thank you. I'm sorry to be an inconvenience."

I pulled away from the hug to look her in the eyes. "You are not an inconvenience. I like having you around. I mean that."

She nodded her head and I gave her another quick hug. She turned back to the piano and began to play. I knew the tune, so I joined in. We played for a minute, and then while still playing, she nudged me in the side. In return I nudged her. She shifted her weight to the right, while playing, to push me. I returned the gesture. She kept one hand on the keyboard and poked me with the other. I caught her hand as she tried to pull it back, and we both abandoned playing the piano and started an all out poke war.

"We're acting like five year olds, you know." She said.

"I know." I laughed "Anything wrong with that?"

"Nope. No problem with that." She said.

We laughed for a second, then it just got quiet. We just sort of stared at each other for a second before she broke the silence.

"I should probably go get ready."

I nodded and she started to walk out. I remained in the living room, near the piano. I sat down on the couch and picked my guitar up again. I wasn't playing anything in particular, just playing and thinking. I heard the shower turn on.

After a few minutes of quietly strumming to myself, I heard a knock at the door, and it opened without waiting for my reply. It was George, with guitar in hand.

"Hello." He greeted.

"Morning."

He eyed around, as if looking for something. Or someone.

"She's in the shower." I stated.

"Oh." He said.

He sat down in a chair and began to play his guitar.

After a minute or two of silence I asked, "So, what do you think of Allison?"

"She seems nice enough." He said, not looking up from his guitar. He was more quiet then usual. Something was off. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on when we heard footsteps from the stairs.

Allison walked in and greeted George with a hug. She was wearing a dress, once again, without her glasses. She took a seat at the piano, but didn't play anything in particular.

"I didn't know you played." George said.

"I do. I play a little guitar too. Not as well you guys though. I actually had a couple guitars named after you two. They were beautiful guitars."

We talked of guitars until the door opened and Ringo and John walked in.

They were greeted the same as George, with hugs and smiles.

The subject of my birthday dance-ball-party-thing came up.

George asked "Are you going to go?"

She nodded.

John took this opportunity to be well, John, and sat next to her at the piano and playfully asked her "How would you like to be taken to the dance by the likes of me, honey?"

A devious smile spread across her face.

"I don't know, by the by, how's Cynthia?"

"How do you know about her?" He asked, shocked, his smile faltering.

"I'm from the future, honey." She said, laughing.

He mock glared at her for a second then burst out laughing. We all had a good laugh.

Out of nowhere, George looked up and said "May I see your music boxy thing?"

She agreed and walked up the stairs to find the music boxy thing.

John had a sly smile on his face. This didn't look good.

"Ringo?" asked John in a sing-songy voice.

"Yes?" Ringo answered.

"Who do you think fancies our little Allie more? Georgie or Macca?"

I felt my face grow hot, and George's face was as red as mine felt.

"Do not" George and I said in synchronization.

John snickered as we heard Allie's footsteps on the stairs. I gave John a quick glare and then I went back to playing nonsense on the guitar.

Allie handed the music box thingy to George and he looked down at it, baffled. She laughed and sat down, showing him how it works. He was as utterly amazed as he was last night at this marvel in her hand I think she called it an itouch. They sat, she giving a private lesson on itouches, and he marveling at the technology. Once they felt he knew enough, she left him with the itouch and she, instead of returning to the piano, sat near me on the couch. Eventually, we all settled into a conversation, except for George who was listening to music through the ear buds.

We all sat, laughing and talking until we heard George mutter "Shit!" to himself.

"What?" Allie said.

He looked up at her, a look of fear, confusion and regret etched in his features.

"Umm… It, and the, the music, and the picture, it…" He rambled.

She walked over, looking a bit confused, and we all realized what he was talking about. He broke the itouch.

He handed it to her as if he was afraid he would break it more.

She looked it over and sighed. She looked upset, but looked at George and gave a half smile.

"I'm so sorry Allie, I didn't do anything to break it, but it just went black and the music stopped and-"

"It's okay" She stopped his nervous ramblings. "The batteries died."

"I'm still sorry." He said, looking a bit reassured

"Really, it's okay. It was going to happen." She smiled, bent down and gave him a hug.

She came back to the couch and sat near me, looking at the itouch.

Everyone quietly fell back into conversation, and Allison seemed to forget about the itouch dying, but kept it in her hand, running her thumb over the silver apple on the back.

We decided we would all go to a restaurant. George, Ringo and John went outside and I was waiting for Allie, who was getting shoes from upstairs. I saw the itouch lying on the table, and I picked it up. Shame I never got to listen to it.

What I had no clue about Allison is that she can be very quiet. I didn't hear her walk down the stairs, and that's why I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard a casual "Hey." from behind me. I whipped around, dropping the itouch, and she burst out laughing.

"You're the cutest spaz I've ever known." She said, still laughing and picking up her broken itouch and setting it back on the table.

"Ready to head out?" I asked, holding the door open.

She smiled, nodded and walked outside, joining the others.

And so we set off for dinner.

**(A/N: Okay, so sorry it took me so long to update. I promise I'll update more often. I think in the next chapter I'll dabble in other POVs. So I took a quiz about Allie, and I found out she's a Mary Sue, and I didnt intentionally do that, I just made a character that's pretty much me, except for playing piano and being named Allison. hahaha, so I will try to update more often, and thank you for reading. peace and love. :])**


	5. Chapter 5

Third person POV:

They stepped out into the warm summer air and got into George's car.

Ringo, Paul and Allison were all squished into the back with John and George in the front. The car ride was filled with conversation and laughter, until they arrived at the restaurant. They spilled out of the car and made a dash for the front door of the restaurant, to avoid being seen by any manic fans.

They shuffled into the dimly lit restaurant and were shown to a circular table near the back.

Allie took a seat and George and Paul both took seats next to her. John gave a knowing look at George and Paul when Allison was looking away. They both shot momentary glares at John, who snickered in return.

"What?" Allie asked the snickering John.

"Oh, nothing, love." John replied with a large grin.

Allie looked skeptical, chuckled, picked up a menu and started to look through.

The young waitress walked over, with a bored and uncaring expression gracing her overly made-up face. She glanced up from her little notebook, and a look of shock replaced the jaded expression, and she immediately smiled.

"Hello, love." John greeted the suddenly cheerful waitress.

"Hi… um, how is everyone today?" She answered nervously.

"Good." The table chorused. When she noticed Allie, she looked both confused and jealous, but checked herself quickly enough to not be noticed by anyone else but Allie.

"Does everyone know what they want to order?" She asked.

They all ordered various meals and she went to place the orders and gossip with her other waitress friends.

A table of girls was staring intently at the Beatles, but occasionally sent death glares at Allie. These glares were too obvious for anyone to miss. One particularly hateful stare made Allie act like she was scratching her face, when she was really trying to stifle a laugh.

George heard her quiet chuckle, and said "What's got you laughing?"

She smiled and said, "Just the hateful looks I'm receiving for being seen here, with you guys."

George looked up at the girls, who in unison, started to wave, laugh and smile, but this quickly faded when he turned his attention back to Allie, and they then returned to their livid glowers.

George couldn't help but laugh at how hungry the girls were for attention.

The Beatles and Allie received their meals and sat, talking and laughing. All the while they ate, they couldn't help but notice the throng of girls beginning to swarm outside.

They devised a secret plan to escape the restaurant.

Phase one; find the back entrance.

Phase two; run like hell.

Well, they made it halfway between phase one and two.

Somehow the girls noticed the boys trying to escape through the back, and they all ran, screaming at the boys. The crowd closed in and Allie started to panic. She felt someone grab her hand, but she hadn't a clue whose it was. She just ran from the screaming mass, allowing the hand holding hers to guide her.

Once they were in a secluded alleyway, she saw it was George who had taken hold of her hand.

"You think we've lost 'em?" She said, in between labored breaths.

"Yea" George answered simply, then he seemed to take notice he still had her hand in hers, and hurriedly let go. He hoped his face didn't reveal his slight blush.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking around the street.

"A few blocks from my flat." He looked at the dark sky above them. "You could stay with me if you like." He stole what seemed like a nervous glance at her, but then resumed staring at the sky.

"I'd like that." She said with a warm smile.

He grinned and they started the short walk towards his flat.

The walk was spent in comfortable silence, both parties content to take in the pleasant summer evening.

They walked into his apartment. It was smaller than Paul's apartment, but very cozy. As Allie suspected, there were about 5 guitars scattered about the apartment.

While she looked around the living room, eyes scanning the guitars, George removed his jacket and set it on a nearby table. He flicked on a lamp, and he couldn't help but gaze at her amazed expression at his guitars. She lightly strummed the strings of one guitar, propped up against a couch, and then immediately drew her hand back and looked at George apologetically.

"What?" He asked, confused at her apologetic expression.

"Sorry, I shouldn't touch your guitars without your permission first." She smiled apologetically.

"No, don't be sorry, please feel free to play." He smiled reassuringly.

A broad grin broke out across her face. "Thank you."

She imeadiatly sat and picked up the guitar. She began strumming quietly, and he couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked holding a guitar, eyes determinedly fixed on the fret board.

"Would you like some tea?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, please." She said, looking up from the guitar.

He nodded with a lopsided smile and walked into the kitchen and set the teapot onto the stove.

-:-:-:-

Paul paced in his apartment. He ran a hand through his hair.

He'd caught a last glimpse of Allie at the restaurant, as the crowd of screaming fans descended upon the five trying to escape discreetly. As he ran he realized he had no idea where she was.

He called John. John didn't know where she was.

He called Ringo. Ringo didn't know where she was.

He called George. George didn't answer.

Is she lost, wondering in London? Has something happened to her?

He sat down next to the phone again and dialed George's number as quickly as possible.

It rang once.

It rang twice.

"Hullo?"

"George! Where's Allie?" Paul rushed his words, worried to know where she was.

"She's here. You okay? You sound worried."

Paul was immediately relieved. "Yea, I'm fine. I was just worried for a while." Paul rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Is Allie going to stay with you?"

"Err… For tonight, yea, I guess."

Paul absentmindedly nodded his head. "Yea, er... Well, are we all going to meet up tomorrow?"

"I guess we could meet at the park and then stop by the guy's houses, yea."

"Yea, that'd be nice. Does Allie need me to drop anything off for her tomorrow?"

"Here, ask her."

Paul heard the phone shuffle from the changing of hands and he heard Allie's voice quietly thank George.

"Hello?" Allie's quiet voice asked.

"Hi. How are you?" Paul asked.

"Um, well, I've gotten my breath back now. That was crazy!" She laughed.

He laughed and said "Well, you kind of get used to it after a while."

"I have a much greater respect for the four of you now that I see what you have to run from."

"Yea, it was pretty scary when we weren't used to it. So I was wondering if you need anything before we went to the park tomorrow?" Paul was staring absentmindedly at the piano, as he said this.

"Um, a new dress and clothes and such would be very useful."

"Okay, milady, I'll bring you some clothes."

"Thank you, Paul. I'll see you tomorrow then. Around elevenish I guess."

"Around elevenish." Paul smiled into the phone.

"Bye, Paul." She said warmly.

"Bye Allie." He said quietly. He waited to hear the sound of her hanging up the phone before he hung up.

He set the phone down and shuffled off to bed, eager to start a new day.

-:-:-:-

"Hey Allie…" George started from the kitchen.

"Yes?" She answered.

He paused a second before continuing. How was he going to phrase this?

"I saw this on your itouch-thing before the battery died, and I was just wondering, what's 'Concert For George?' And why did it have a picture of me on it, and why did someone say I was…"George stopped, as if trying to find the courage to say the final word. "….gone?"

Allie froze.

This is what she was dreading. The future coming back to haunt her.

**(A/N) Dun Dun! So yea. Will try to update soon. Thanks for reading. Reveiws are helpful. Peace and Love.**


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